Bears defensive end had what it takes inside and out

If, when Richard Dent was entering his junior year of high school, you would have told Mary Dent her sixth child would make the Pro Football Hall of Fame, she probably would have laughed.

Richard never had played team sports before.

If, when Richard Dent was attending his first football practice at Tennessee State, you would have told coach John Merritt that Dent would make the Hall, he probably would have laughed.

Merritt didn't recruit Dent. He didn't give him a scholarship. The only reason Merritt agreed to take him is he wanted a couple of Dent's high school teammates, and he cut a deal with Dent's high school coach.

If, when Richard Dent was moved from offensive tackle to defensive end during his second year at Tennessee State, you would have told then-defensive coordinator Joe Gilliam that this scrawny kid would make the Hall, he probably would have laughed.

"He was put on me by the offensive coaches," Gilliam says. "He was 215 pounds, too small for offensive tackle, so I took him. But I told the coaches I have cornerbacks bigger than Dent."

If, when Bears decision-makers were discussing Richard Dent on draft day in 1983, you would have told general manager Jim Finks that Dent would make the Hall, he probably would have laughed.

Bears personnel man Bill Tobin tried to persuade Finks to select Dent as high as the third or fourth rounds, but Finks would have none of it. Finally, when the eighth round came, Finks relented.

If, when Richard Dent showed up at the old Halas Hall for the first time with a mouthful of crumbling teeth, you would have told coach Mike Ditka that Dent would make the Hall, he probably would have laughed.

When the Bears saw the condition of his teeth, they sent him straight to the dentist. Dent had more than $3,000 worth of work done, and the improvements helped him eat better. Over the next three years, he would gain more than 30 pounds and reach his playing weight of about 260.

Dent was not born a Hall of Famer. He made himself one.

The journey that will end Saturday when Dent is inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame began in Nashville. When Dent was sitting out as a redshirt freshman offensive tackle, he volunteered to play on the defensive scout team and listened to everything defensive coaches were saying.

He watched how one of his teammates, Bruce Walker, was able to lean into the blocker and use his forearm to free himself. One of the assistants, Craig Gilliam, Joe's son, taught him how to watch tape and break down line play.

Dent's freakish quickness off the snap made him stand out and became his calling card, both in college and the pros. Once with the Bears, Dent relied on that exceptional initial burst, and it paid off with 17 1/2 sacks in his second season. But as Dent became successful, opponents began to take notice and adjust their games.

Dent said in one game in 1984 against the Cardinals, Bubba Baker got his hands on him and Dent couldn't free himself. Dent figured he needed to use his hands more.

"I began watching guys like Mike Hartenstine and Steve McMichael who were good with their hands, and Jim Osborne before that," Dent said. "I had to slow my game down to learn how to use my hands, and then put the speed back into it."

It ended up being one of the best things that ever happened to Dent as a pass rusher.

"My hands became one of strongest parts of game, especially when I put on gloves," he said. "I used to like to box, so that made me feel vicious."

Dent, who retired with 137 1/2 sacks, was a student of the game who kept learning new ways to beat blockers. He and Bears offensive tackle Jim Covert, himself a Hall-worthy player, would work on techniques during down time.

"His repertoire of pass rushes really increased over the years," Covert said. "He could do pretty much anything he wanted."

Determination was another hallmark of Dent's 15-year career. Gilliam talks about how Dent was able to inflict pain without ever showing he felt it.

"You can't teach a person to be oblivious to pain," said Gilliam, who will present Dent in Canton, Ohio. "That's what Richard Dent was."

Dent also played football like his pants were on fire.

"He was a relentless football player," Gilliam said. "Whoever had the ball, Richard Dent would hone in on them like a guided missile. He wouldn't stop until they blew the whistle. You can't teach that quality. If you could, every guy would go to the Hall of Fame."

Way back when, Dent would have been one of the last guys you would have thought would end up in the Hall. But the human will can be a powerful force.